Battle Scars
by ladyeagle117
Summary: He doesn't see her leave, but something shatters when she slams the door.


**I'm not really sure how I feel about this one. Just caught the bug after reading the tagline for 8x18, although I certainly do not expect anything like this to happen. But I'm finishing up "The Fight" for _Reasons Why _(it should be up tonight) and I recently watched "Bagpipes" again and things just sort of spiraled from there. Set at an unspecified time after 8x12. Please enjoy.**

It skids to a halt on the counter. Too much said is not enough and the raw, stinging silence bleeds words left unspoken. She can't look. He can't look away. Wide eyes see but cannot comprehend. Unfeeling, unthinking. Stunned and numb and eyes unblinking. Cast adrift and the world is spinning and he can't help but marvel at the play of light on the shadows, the stark contrast of diamond on jet black marble. He doesn't see her leave, but something shatters when she slams the door.

Overwhelmed, a flood of fury that burns like fire and feels like pain. Long past thought, the point of no return. She's not sure how they got here. Where here is. Who she is. A stranger, an ethereal illusion consumed by the fury, a burning in her chest and the pounding of her heart. She rips off the ring.

It skids to a halt on the counter. She can't look. He can't look away. Breath catching. Time stands still, lost in bleeding silence and blinding light, contrast in stark relief. Third finger, left hand. A thin, pale circle of creamy white skin. Illusions or resolve, she can't be sure, but something shatters when she slams the door.

He staggers under the weight of crushing realization, collapsing inward. Fear like a vice. Can't see can't feel can't think can't breathe. Ears ringing, heart pounding, fist clenched so tight the ring cuts into the palm of his hand. Staring into the darkness, haunted by the clatter of metal on marble. No. No. Please God, no. Can't see can't feel can't think can't breathe but he can't just watch her walk away.

She slumps against the wall for support, collapsing into herself, felled by the shrapnel of a shattered heart. Curled in the hallway, knees tucked to her chin wrapped tight to her chest. She can't breathe for the pain, trembling body wracked with tortured sobs. Tears burning, heart pounding, knees clenched so tight her nails cut into the back of her calves. No. No. Please God, no. Raw inside, haunted by the agony in his unblinking eyes. Somewhere around her, beyond the slamming echo in her ears, frenzied pounding shatters the bleeding silence.

He skids to a halt in the hallway, frantic. Head spinning, heart pounding, and, for a moment, he's not sure where he is or what he's doing. Fear like a vice squeezes tighter in his chest, slamming the down button on the elevator again and again. Clenched fist on metal, again and again and again and again, until his knuckles bleed and the ring cuts deeper in the palm of his hand. Slumped against the wall for support and somewhere behind him, beyond the pounding echo in his ears, a tortured sob shatters the bleeding silence.

Curled in the hallway four feet from the door, clutching her knees, convulsing in silent spasms. Shoulders fall, fists unclenched. Knuckles bleed and his palm still stings and his lungs are gasping for air. He falls to his knees, slicing himself on the shrapnel of a shattered heart. Anything left of him to break is scattered at her feet.

A gentle brush of his thumb, tracing the line of her jaw and he pulls her gaze to meet his own. Hollow cheeks, lines around his eyes she's never seen before. Somehow older, more weary than ever.

Rivers of mascara, lines around her eyes that weren't there this morning. Somehow older, more broken than ever. Lips crash together, fierce and desperate. He misses slightly and she's still crying.

One hand in her hair, holding her tight. Her fingers dig into his back. Whispered I love you's against her neck. I'm sorry, lost in his lapels. Over and over and over again.

No one mentions but neither forgets. Even years later. Scars where she wears his shrapnel. Tortured sobs still echo in his ears. Some nights too much said is not enough. They go to bed angry, wake up older. She leaves for work without a kiss goodbye, checking twice to make sure she's wearing her ring.


End file.
